Frenemies
by Secretly Immortal
Summary: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. I lived by the logic. It was the reason why Mary Alice Brandon THOUGHT she was my best friend - because really, she's my worst enemy. And, oh, I was gonna get her... AU
1. Prologue

**Okay okay, I REALLY shouldn't, but... THE IDEA WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! *sobs* I-it comes to me at night and... whispers _dirty things _in my ear, aaahhh, it's so scary and makes me feel unclean! It promised it would stop if... if I did what it wanted...**

**In other words, love me or hate me for starting a new story, but it's coming anyway, so I own nothing but the idea, which was inspired by a line from a song which I enjoy. Forgive mistakes?**

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I've heard before, and was once told - what seems... eons ago - that you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. So as to protect yourself. And the first time that was told to me, by my father at the tender young age of five, I didn't understand how that really made sense. I mean, come on; the only time that every works it's for Kim Possible and Shego, and that's _only _because anything is possible for Kim. She rocks. However, in the world outside of classic cartoons, the _"real" _world, that makes basically no sense. You mean to tell me that I should LET heartless bitches take a crack at making my life a living hell... _on a daily basis_!? I didn't know how to curse at that particular time in my life, but I was thinking the equivalent of 'that's a crock of shit!'

I think he'd meant it as a joke. Not that it really mattered, little kid logic demanded I ignore him in favor of further badmouthing my new evil nemesis that I'd gained that very day. I didn't consider the playfully-given advice until I was older, jaded and embittered by too many encounters with the witch of a bitch that made my life hell, despite that she basically WENT OUT OF HER WAY to do so, and I let her be... well, for the most part. But still! One day, with disdain twisting in my gut, leaving me this snarl-y, snap-ish bitch with but one friend in the world - other than my siblings, but they didn't count - to claim as my own, one day a chance came for revenge. That chance came, and I clung to it like a fucking leech, suckling away at the precious lifeblood of sweet, slow-building, satisfactory justice. Vengeance, baby; it's sweet as grand ma's cookies.

Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, so you might protect yourself; it was my life, my reason to be. It was why Mary Alice Brandon was my best friend, or so she thought. Because I hated her. And I would fucking get her for what she did to me. And, oh, she would come to regret it, and I wouldn't feel a _damn _ounce of guilt for her harpy ass.

* * *

It all started with Renee. She was my mom, until she wasn't anymore. I don't miss her, but then, I really didn't know her to begin with; she left my old man when I was just _hardly _three, never cared to change a glance back at the bouncing baby girl she was leaving behind in her haste to escape from the man she'd thought she knew. But, apparently, the fact that he had been carrying out an elicit, XXX rated affair with his best friend gave her reason to believe that she REALLY didn't know the man she'd married. It... is understandable to me, now that I'm older and have a greater comprehension of the world around me, her horrified response. For one, my father - and I love the man immensely, but... - was a cheating bastard. And for another, he was a homosexual.

Yeah, his best friend was a man. And he's now my other father. Cool shit, right? Well, to a three-year-old, it was awesome. I get TWO dad's, while everyone else only had one? Hah, it's not a competition, but I'd win if it was! I didn't know what "gay" or "homosexual" meant, and when dad tried explaining with papa present by his side for support, I couldn't understand how it could be such a bad thing that people should react as Renee had. I mean, I got two dads, and the siblings. One day I'm an only child, and the next I have THREE playmates. I hand this one over to Charlie Sheen:

Winning!

Plus, dad was happy, and that was really all that mattered to me. Renee had left, but he loved me and he had stayed and now he had another parent for me and I had siblings. Everything about the situation was perfect, really it was. And then there came kindergarten. The first day, I made friends with a pretty hazel-eyed girl. I told her - cough, bragged, cough, cough - that I had two dads... and she smiled at me and giggled and told me that was cool. She only had one, and he was never really there. I'd shyly - _STUPIDLY _- told her we could share mine. 'Cause I had so many, and hers was a butt head. She'd been happy, and smiled so big I thought her face might get stuck, and she smiled wider still and laughed and we'd spent the whole day together, happy as clams hanging out with peas in a pod.

And the next day she told me I was a freak. With angry, tear-filed eyes, she told me I was a freak of nature, daughter of two _creatures _- literally, she'd said creatures - that were going to hell where abominations like them belonged. She said I was going there too. I was so shocked, that when she pushed me into the dirt and ran away, I just sat there. I sat there and I stared after her; and it wasn't what she'd said that paralyzed me, so much as the shock if betrayal. Most people asked what it was like, having two dads. But that was pretty much all I knew, so I didn't know what to say, how to explain that it was the same as having a mom and dad, because I didn't rightly know if that would be true.

And she, the girl with the sweet, sparkling eyes and smile and acceptance, she'd just... she'd turned around and threw it all in my face. It was from that moment onwards that I swore to God, the devil, Buddha, whoever the hell was out there – I swore that I would make her pay. How dare she judge me, and mine!? When the very day before she'd told me, with a nervous flush coloring her cheeks, that her dad was hardly ever there in the first place; when I'd offered her the comfort of my fathers and she'd accepted, she had the gall to come to me within a twenty-four hour period and spit on me!? Oh no, she literally spit on me. Yeah, evil fucking bitch, right?

Her name was Alice. Mary Alice. Mary Alice Brandon. One of my greatest regrets is admitting that her name was cute. That _she_ was cute. Bitches aren't cute. They are EVIL, and I'd gone and done all that for her, breaking my damn spine bending over backwards to please her…! I was a dumb kid, I guess, but I grew out of that. Unlike Alice, she never really grew out of her bitchiness, not until the summer before high school; but I'm still sorta adamant that this little good girl act of hers is exactly that. An act. She's not really my friend, she doesn't really 'adore' my bitch-y humor, she's just waiting for me to let my guard down so she can leap like a fucking lioness on the carcass of my dropped guard and rip my throat out.

See, the thing is, for nearly ten years, the bitch ragged on and ridiculed me. And she encouraged others to as well, and they did. Oh sure, they didn't actually directly do anything, that is to say that they never said anything to my face and only fucked my shit up if I wasn't there - turtle my book bag, write fucked up shit on my desk and locker - because I'd beaten a kid's ass when he tried saying shit in front of me and my little brother Jacob. They knew not to touch my family, and they knew not to directly mess with me, but the whispers persisted and bull shit consisted with every day I blinked the sleep from my eyes with a scowl and seriously sour disposition. Alice was the epicenter, the eye of the storm, the monkey wrench thrown into my operational functionality.

And then the summer between middle and high school, her parents divorced. Her dad was an all-around ass, as it turned out; liked to 'bully' her and her mother, but he went too far one day - bruises, blows, and blood came about, so they say - and her mother divorced his ass, dropped him like the baddest habit. And really that's all he was. I was proud of her mother, womanly respect and all that, but as far as Alice was concerned... it's true what they say, huh? Apples never fall to far from the tree. Just desserts and whatnot. I felt some strange sense of pleasure to hear the news, bitch makes fun of my two daddies, loses the only one she's got AND he was total fuck nugget.

It's the little victories, I suppose. But that bitch had turned me into a pariah, thus indirectly hurting my little brother in the process, and you don't EVER touch my Jakie, and he cried when he came home from school at least six times that I could remember, so all those small victories amounted to nothing. And once high school hit, this bitch has the gall to come to me all shy-like and act _friendly! _Yeah, I know; to further push the limits of madness, she clings to my side like her life depends on it, yells at anyone trying to say shit now. Loses all her bitch friends, gains me. Because you keep your friends close, and enemies closer. Not because you're protecting yourself, but because it's the best way for you to stab them in the back.

So once she's left friendless, alone, and hurting from the shock of my betrayal; once she's made fun of for associating with the still-pariah and she's broken down into shamed tears on her front stoop, then shall I feel satisfied. When she's broken and despairing, I shall feel utter joy. And just because, just out if principle, I'll go kick her when she's down. Right in her dastardly, attractive face. Why? Because for all she's done to make amends for the past, she never once apologized. She isn't sorry for what she did, what she said to me, despite the sad puppy eyes look I get any time I mention our dirty past; she's not sorry, she doesn't regret it, and she never will.

Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer. That logic is why Alice Brandon is my best friend. Because she's my worst enemy. She just doesn't know it yet, but... she will.

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**How's that for a prologue, hmm? Satisfactory? Well at the moment, I'm working my ass off on the next chapter for Ray - and that'll most likely be updated soon because I'm almost done with the chapter - I'm also working on Lothario, Wrong, and whichever other one y'all seem to favor the most.****  
**

**Okay, explanation time - Yes, Bellice is endgame, just... not immediately. I'm considering futa, because it amuses me to fuck shit up. And... for any other explanations, just ask me a question a question. Review if ya want, this idea will threaten to touch me in the night either way until it's written, soooo... yeeeah. Love and kisses! ;***


	2. Chapter 1

**Hi there. Look at this, it's chapter one! Okay, so my plan for this is to just make Bella one damn stubborn-ass. It'll be fun, you'll see.**

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When I had first met Rosalie Hale, she was gorgeous. And she couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve, but even as a child she was gorgeous. She looked like a living, breathing porcelain doll. Like some master crafter had envisioned a cherubim-like being, and through pain-staking labors had created her using every ounce of effort and skill within his body. Hair like spun silk that tumbled over her shoulders in waves of liquid sunshine, kissed with gold and honey. Skin like fresh cream, so pretty and pale, as if the moon shone from within her body. Eyes of an icy blue, but with the most interesting starburst of amber around her pupil. And at that time, she hardly spoke at all, but when she did it was in this soft, lilting tone that caressed the ears... and using words sharp as knives.

I'm not sure what it is about Rosie that brings her to harbor such distaste for the moral majority, but she does, _did._ I guess it was her looks; because of them, of how mind-blowing she was, a lot of people flocked to her to be her _friend._ It was almost always because of her looks, and Rosalie hated that people were so shallow and superficial to harass her for companionship JUST because she was a pretty face, and they wanted the popularity of her friendship. I was different. I wanted to be her friend because she had just moved in beside me, and she hadn't yet been affected by my school mates such as to harbor an unjustifiable hatred for me. With enough pestering from me, and noting that I _wasn't_ there because she was an exceptionally pretty face, she eventually gave in and confided in me - in that soft, angel voice of hers - that she thought everyone else were stupid, imbecilic.

And she paused for a moment to cast a quick glance around for any eavesdroppers before leaning closer, cupping a hand around her mouth, and finishing her description with "Bitches, the whole lot of them!"

Needless to say, we instantly became friends from that day onwards. And she was still the same, soft spoken and rarely speaking, beautiful, and cold to all but me and a select few individuals that she didn't despise. And it's funny, how, for all her good looks, she couldn't give two shits how other people saw her; so she didn't care for what people said about her hanging around me, she usually just ignored them. Well, she ignored everyone, so they all thought she was a cold bitch, but once again, she didn't give a damn. It was great. Because she was also very mean, and I loved to hear her dress down a fake, plastic bitch or two. And that was _before_ we even hit high school.

Strangely enough, once Alice decided to play nice with her little friendly act, Rosalie didn't hate her. She tolerated it, and never once did she participate in my rants of how much of a huge fucking fake-ass bitch Alice was. Now that they'd calmed into the occasional grumble of stubborn dislike for the flip-flopping 'friend', did Rosalie ever comment. And it was only little remarks, with a smirk tacked on at the end - always, the ever present smirk of hers - that would bug the shit out of me. Like the one she'd made to me earlier. I don't know what it is, but everyone seems to think I'm gay. Apparently, being raised by two homosexual men made me seem like that. And I'm not really sure how, for starters, they aren't even sparkly gay!

You know what I mean, all feminine voices and _OOOH, PINK_; yeah, that's not them. Dad - Charlie - was the chief of police, and had been for many years and not a damn person had ever dared to challenge his right to it, just because he was a bit more in tune with his true self than a lot of other people could claim to be. And papa - Billy - owned and operated a bait and tackle shop out on the Res. So, I guess I'd only ever grown up around manly men, and therefore had a bit of a tendency to not react girlishly to things; and maybe I was even just a _bit _masculine on my own, actually really enjoying the fishing outings we'd have every Saturday throughout the weekends of my youth, and dad showing me how to take his gun apart and put it back together, but that didn't make me _GAY!_ That being said, of course there's nothing wrong with being gay, but I don't like being incorrectly labeled!

Actually, I just don't like to be labeled, that's fucked up and unnecessary. But back to the main point I'd been attempting to make and/or explain properly, so that I can prove that my anger is very much righteous - I already know it is, but everyone else should too. So everyone seems to think I'm gay, right? Right; and it pisses me the fuck off. And ever since fucking Alice decided that she'd just _HAVE_ to claim me for her best bestie EVEEEER, she clings. I don't know what her dealio is, but she sees me and lets out this war cry comprised of my name, and runs for me. And it's always for a hug, glomp, almost-tackle, or just some sort of physical contact that involves her and me. She'll hold my hand if I will ever allow it, or cling to one of my arms and I'll naturally escort her like a proper gentle lady because I'm a bitch, not rude, thanks - plus, I gotta act that part, don't I? - or just do _something_ very much in public view. So naturally, people assume that she and I are just _TOTS FO' REEEALZ _in mad amour with one another, and we aren't.

Obviously, she's just a bit too friendly. And while I can't recall ever seeing her act this way with her bitchy friends from years past, I can't just assume that she didn't because I really tried to block her from existence at that time; of course I wouldn't notice how she acts and reacts around her fuck-twat friends. And I guess I could argue that she doesn't act like this with Rose, but that has nothing to do with this, so the key points to remember from this power point presentation: I'm not gay, everyone thinks I am, everyone assumes Alice is gay with me and that we are in love, I hate her. And when I say everyone, I do mean that Rose is a fucking bitch. And not like how Alice was, where it was malicious and deliberate, she's more for comments that bite at the heels of your sanity and make you want to smack the smirk off her face.

* * *

"_Fag_," someone sneered at me as I walked down the hall beside Rose. I paused and laughed, turning around and walking after him with deliberately heavy footsteps. He glanced back, eyes widening when he noticed my insane smile and the way I was cracking my knuckles.

"Sorry, I couldn't quite hear you over the sound of your cowardice; you wanna say that to my fucking face?" He sort-of glared, like the kind of glare you give someone when you seriously kind of want to start something, but you are really afraid to because you know you will undoubtedly _lose_ and look really lame - the scared little bitch glare, I like to think of it - and scoffed.

"Whatever," He tried to play it cool, wave me off, but I stepped closer, until I was almost chest-to-chest with the little fuck. He was some sophomore shit stain, trying to ride on the coattails of the upperclassmen, which of course meant that he'd try and do what they couldn't - get away with insulting me to my face - so he could gain a foothold of popularity.

"Goddamn right, _whatever_," I brought my hands up and pushed him as hard as I could. He stumbled back a step or two before the momentum sent him sprawling on his ass on the floor. I didn't leave it yet, stalking closer and standing over him with my hands on my hips as he pushed himself up on his elbows and stared up at me, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock and just a spark of fear. "And don't you fucking forget it, or next time I'll beat the little-shit out of you, ya little _shit._"

"Bell!" Rosalie sighed with an over-the-top amount of exasperation. She came over, grabbing me by the elbow and tugging until I bothered to budge for her. I work out - I swear to god, make a fucking LMFAO joke and I will beat you with a tire iron - a lot because I _refuse_ to be weak, give someone the chance to take advantage of me. I usually take any chance I can to show off my strength so as to discourage people from trying shit with me "God, you're such an overdramatic chick." I snorted, rolling my eyes at her.

"It's _hardly_ my fault! They're the ones that keep insisting on assuming me gay, when I'm _clearly_ not!" I argued back as she kept one hand wrapped lightly around my arm. So now I was escorting her... and maybe that's why I always end up doing it for Alice, because Rosalie has trained me so well. _Great, now I'm dog... _Guess that means I really _am_ a bitch. Now Rosalie snorted, smirking that smirk and I aimed a glare at her, but she ignored me and continued to stare forward as she guided us towards the lunchroom. I'd only _just_ forgiven her for her comment again, but I could feel the dread in my gut twisting, and knew another one was coming.

"Well, _maybe_ if you didn't look at Alice like you wanted to _eat_ her-" I let out a cry something like indignation making love to fury, and wrenched my arms away, stopping in the middle of the hallway to glare heatedly at her.

"I do NOT! I look at her like I want to _beat_ her, not _eat _her!" SEE! Fucking bitch, right? _God_, I'm too nice. You wanna know what she said this morning? She saw Alice waving and coming closer, and told me 'Oh, here comes your little lover!' Is that not shit!? Okay, so maybe I'm overreacting just a little, but... that wasn't funny.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you'd like to _beat_ something involving her..." My mouth dropped open as she breezed past me, the lightest, girliest giggle you've ever heard drifting over her shoulder to punch me in the brain. What a fucking _BITCH!_

"You think I won't beat you!?" I threatened as I hurried after her. I heard another giggle, this one decidedly different, and my scowl became a deep, dark grimace. Fuck my luck.

"Rosalie, stop being so mean to Bella," Fuck off, Alice. No one needs your fake-ass shit right now. And by no one, I mean me... and I think I just indirectly insulted myself, but what-the-fuck-ever. "You know she's sensitive." Yeah, sensitive to how annoying you are; I can tell you right now, I don't blush. The heat and color in my cheeks _ISN'T_ a blush, it is a flush of anger for my sighting of the bane of my existence. Alice used to dress up all fancy-shmancy, 'I'm a rich bitch' back in the day, wearing all these dresses and skirts and shoes and OMG, blah, blah, blah. But ever since her daddy got booted out of the family, she'd toned it down to more casual wear. Her clothing was still designer, sure, but now it was less just-stepped-off-the-runway.

Right now, she was wearing some dark blue skinny jeans, a black and yellow plaid button up with the top buttons undone and a black lacy undershirt, and a pair of flats. I don't know if that's fashionable, I don't give a fuck, and I refuse to acknowledge the voice in the back of my head - the voice of unbiased views of humanity - that insisted she looked damn good in it, whether it was fashionable or not. All I know is that I probably looked like shit next to her and Rose. They are _easily_ the hottest girls in school... and the both of them are best friends with the resident outcast. It was the only time I liked admitting Alice was my 'best' friend, because it was like giving the finger to every clique out there, but without me having to make that effort to do so. A sort-of fuck you, to modern standards of popularity. It pleased me.

"I'm not sensitive, Rosalie is just fucking evil," I grumbled as Alice moved over to me, latching onto the arm that Rosalie had abandoned. And now my furious flush is growing, because she's doing this _again._ And I know I should be used to it, but I'm not, okay? I'm fucking _NOT_. Alice lightly slapped the arm she held, settling a playful scolding look upon me.

"Language, dear," Fuck you, bitch. SEE!? Acts like she has the right to act like that; I've been called every damn name under the sun by her and she thinks she can just- No, no, let me just stop now. I'm getting worked up and I don't want to punch her in the eye and get in trouble for it. I'll get expelled. Because despite the respect garnered from being Chief Swan's daughter, I'd gotten in too many fights defending my and Jakie's honor that one more ambulance call and I was getting booted out. I heard Rosalie laughing ahead of us, and I felt such an urge to just lash out and kick her right in the ass.

"That's why, Bella," she called over her shoulder, flicking long locks out of her way so she could glance back at me. "Because you let it happen."

"Oh, right; so because I'm constantly furious and annoyed by _It_, that means I'm sexually frustrated for _It _and therefore gay?" I snapped back at her, my tone some parts sarcastic, some parts pissed, and wholly don't-you-dare-answer-that.

"I never said anything about being sexually frustrated," Rosalie said simply, and I glared at her like she was Alice from the olden days, plus the devil, and an ignorant homophobe, all combined.

"What are you guys talking about?" Alice wondered, this adorably amused-confused look on her face. And that's what pissed me off the most about her; she's such a two-faced harpy, but she plays the nice, sweet, 'I'm totally not a fucking bitch' face so well! I swear I haven't seen her true, bitchy colors in too long. She's gotten really good at hiding it, I think. "Wait... do I even _want_ to know?"

"No!" I snapped at her.

"Yes," Rosalie smiled back over her shoulder in the same moment that I spoke. Alice glanced between the two of us, still with that amused-confused look upon her facial canvas, but accompanied with a small smile. Such a two-faced bitch, I swear...

"Right, well I'm just gonna go with our dear Bella's-" I'm not your _dear_ anything. "-opinion on the matter and assume ignorance." Rosalie only smirked at me as we caught up with her, as if to say _see, she even bows in submission to your wishes!_

As if that should matter; just because she listens to me more than anyone else - except for maybe Jakie - and laughs at like... everything I say (mean or otherwise), and I catch her staring at me sometimes and she gets flustered does NOT mean that she is a taco muncher. Clearly, she's listening for my weaknesses, hoping I'll give something away she can take advantage of. Obviously, she's trying to lower my guard with laughter, so that she can slip in underneath the slip up and stab my back like she did. Honestly, she's staring because she's devising plans of my untimely demise, and when I catch her she gets flushed with the same anger that heats my cheeks every time I see her, because she's angry that I caught her in the act of her villainy. It's perfectly logical, and very much obvious that these are the TRUTHS of her actions and reactions to/around me.

"Yeah, so shut the fuck up, Rosie Posie," I was grinning maliciously as Rose sent a glare my way, feeling triumphant at last; she seriously hates when I call her that, has ever since we first befriended one another. Of course it's my duty in life to fucking torture the shit out of her with it, you know, considering I'm her best friend and all. Considering that Alice considers me her best friend and she mine, however, she feels she has the right to physically assault me. By uncurling one of her arms from mine and reached up to slap the back of my head with a good amount of force. "OUCH! Jeeeeez, the fu-"

"Language, Bella," Alice chastised with this sickly sweet smile and tone of pure diabetic shock. I bit my tongue hard, until the coppery tang of blood graced the presence of my taste buds; and you know, it worked like a Lucky fuckin' Charms commercial. Because I resisted hitting her, or totally ripping her to fucking shreds. I offered a tight smile, and spat out through clenched teeth:

"Of course. My bad."

"That's right your bad," She tilted her nose high, smiling to show she wasn't really trying to act as snooty as she secretly so fucking is. _Lying, two-faced, harpy bitch-witch from Satan's sack and seventh circle of hell._ I was walking between Rose and Alice, so when Rose made a small noise and slight gesture, it was experienced by me alone. Whipped? ME!? Yeah, well at least I'm not a Barbie knock-off; evil bitch... "So it better not happen again, ya hear!?" She was smiling fully now, winking at me and giggling when I only scowled. Right, because scowling is so freakin' hilarious.

"Yo baby!" I take it back, that wasn't a scowl that I just gave Alice, at least not compared to the one that overtook me, just hearing _his_ voice; for the scowl I now sported, I might as well have laughed merrily and grinned like a kid in Wal-Mart without his mother there to beat him for being loud and acting like an idiot. Because I know I said that everyone thinks Alice and I are just _soooo_ in love, and that everyone assumes we're gay - the card I didn't put on the table of logic-lacked-by-most was the one where Alice has a boyfriend. And as much as I hate Alice... I fucking hate him so much more. That's a difficult feat to accomplish, considering I've hated her for a decade and some change. I'm impressed by him, only in the regard that he managed to get me to harbor that much hatred for him.

His name is James. James Witherdale. He's this tall-ish dude, stuck somewhere between pale and almost-tan, gray eyes, not super beefy but not some reedy rail mother-fuck; he's almost a ginger, it's weird. Like, his hair is blonde mostly, but then the light will hit it a certain way and I can pick out these red tints that allow me to entertain malicious ginger thoughts - you know the sort, gingers don't have souls and can be blamed for all bad. Usually I don't have a problem with red heads, I don't usually buy into the whole 'gingers are evil' mindset... and then I see his sleazy fucking face and I'm like 'Oh damn, they ain't lying.' His hair is long, so he pulls it back in this ponytail that makes me... want to kick him in the neck, for no particular reason. And he's too hip for a full beard, but too cool to sport a baby smooth jaw, so he's got that fuzz all over his chin that just makes him look grungy and lazy and douche-y.

But what really burns me up is his whole demeanor. He's probably most definitely the cockiest SOB at this school, and while many girls think highly of him, think he's what you might call 'attractive' (air quotes necessary to complete this part of the exam, thank you), his personality is total shit! Not only is he cocky as a mother fuck, but he's rude, unnecessarily crass, disruptive in the classroom - and I'm no nerd, but seriously it gets fucking old faster than the Flash cums - loud AND obnoxious (toxic combination, that), and he treats Alice like crap. This should, logically, be a good thing for me; and I should appreciate how he brushes her off, snaps at her, bullies her into doing what he wants, makes her sad by really just going too far whenever they fight (which is often)... but every time he does it, I feel this surge of hatred and anger and jealousy.

Like, how _dare_ you mistreat what is RIGHTFULLY _MINE_ to mistreat! He's made her cry before, okay. And that's fucked up. That's MY JOB, and this asshat douche-fuck just swoops in and stomps all over my perfectly respectable vocation! He's got no class about it, no subtly or strategies; no, he just acts like a total tool, makes her feel bad about herself WITHOUT MY CONSENT, insults me and/or Rose but then runs off before I can do anything about it - or, and prepare yourself for this, in fact, sit down in case you're standing; or he'll use _ALICE_ as a shield from either mine, or Rose's wrath after he's insulted us. You lose man points for making a girl cry, major man points for a hit-and-run insult aimed at a girl, and the man card gets revoked when you hide from your girlfriend's girl friends by USING your girlfriend as a FUCKING shield. He's got no redeeming qualities, basically. I can only wonder why Alice is still with him, because even _I've_ tried my hand at convincing her that he's shit. But see, he's stubborn and headstrong; it's the only reason he and Alice are dating in the first place - he basically stalked her, and then insisted they be together, and would NOT take no for an answer - and I can only guess it's the reason they're still together now.

I could feel Alice freeze against my side, at the same time that Rose and I froze mid-step as we simultaneously trained venomous, narrowed-eyed glares on his cockily grinning face. His mouth twitched towards a sneer, but he smiled as he flitted his eyes over to Alice and I saw that fucking spark that I've recognized in too many eyes of hormonal teens - I seriously fucking hate teenagers, and other than Rose, Alice, and this couple that are without hatred directed towards them, I can only enjoy the company of teachers, and the janitorial staff - as just _wanting._ And it made me feel nauseated, because I knew that the look was the very reason Alice was subtly pressing herself closer against my side.

"H-hi James..." Alice looked down and away from him, speaking in this little itty-bitty voice that matches her itty-bitty stature, but not her all-over-the-fucking-place personality of sunshine and daisies. You know, the one that's totally fake, but still exponentially better than this right now. I hate how happy she is all the time - and maybe it's just me, but being THAT happy ALL THE TIME is just weird and needs to not happen around me - but the way she clams up and gets all abused-housewife whenever he's around just rubs me the wrong way. She may be fake, but that spot of bleak reality shouldn't exist, as far as I'm concerned. At least, not when I'M not behind it. Actually no, not even then. I just want to make her cry, not abuse her. _Although she probably deserves both... _but still only ever from me.

"What'cha doin' with _those_ freaks?" He used the plural there, but he had eyes only for me when he spoke. The worst part is that that lusty spark that had lit in his eyes upon sighting Alice didn't diminish. And he was trying to sneer when he spoke, but he was smirking this creepy creeperton smirk that made my skin crawl. It also made my body tense; it was an uncontrollable response I had to the threat he offered. The one where he's just enough of a creepy douche that he'd probably end up in jail for sexual assault charges in the near future. I could instinctively sense it. The way he looked at Rose was even _worse_ though. And the fact that he's doing this, IN FRONT OF HIS GIRLFRIEND, just makes it all the more sleazy. I hate Alice, sure, yes, it's been established; even _she_ deserves better than this bottom feeder.

"I... I was gonna... eat lunch with them today..." Alice's hesitant response was in the same soft, abused-housewife tone; it was like she was expecting him to throw a steel-toed boot at her or something. Instead he adopted this completely plastic, totally pathetic (pathetic as in lame, weak, up-your-fucking-game-bro) pout which he aimed at her after pulling his eyes from myself and Rose, with some difficulty, I noted.

"But _baaabe_, I wanted you to eat lunch with _me_ today!" he even stomped his foot, crossing his arms over his chest like this childish approach with the petulant tone was cute and would work. It's not cute on him, and if this works there is seriously no hope for the world.

"O-oh, well..." Alice finally lifted her head, eyes caught somewhere between anxious and uncomfortable, fidgeting nervously as she turned those eyes on us, pleading silently for help. I wasn't going to say anything; not because I didn't want to, but because Rosalie's nails had dug into my hip sharply, but without notice from the other two parties that had turned their attention our way. It was a warning for me to bite my tongue until there was naught but a bloody stump left, because if I didn't then I would probably get in a fight because no matter his reaction, I would just see red. I know I would. I have an acute sense for trouble; I'm a bit of a magnet for it, so I've been told.

"Perhaps-"

"You eat with them _ALL _the time! I'm beginning to think you don't love me..." Oh dear Christ. Please kill him. PLEASE. So I don't have to see his annoying, obnoxious mug twisted into that fucking face any longer.

"Is that look supposed to be _cute_, or are you just constipated?" I couldn't hold it back any longer, and really that was as much for me as it was for Rosalie... and Alice, to a lesser extent. Rosalie speaks frequently with me and Alice, anyone else is blessed to have her speak to them. Notice the _with_ and the _to_ I used there; as in, she converses _with _us, but she talks _at _others because she hardly ever deems them worthy enough to actually carry out a conversation with them. And he'd interrupted her when she began speaking. I'd felt her tense up beside me, the nails digging just deeper into my skin. After I spoke, however, I could practically feel the smirk that twisted her full lips, but I _could_ feel the lessening pressure of her nails against my skin. James glared at me, and Alice just looked at me with wide eyes and a spot of amusement evidenced by her twitching mouth. She was trying not to smile, and for some reason that pleased me. _Fuck you James; even your girl thinks you're an idiot._

"_Fuck off_," he hissed at me, turning his dark glare then to Alice. And she must have sensed it, because her mouth stopped twitching just to fall into a frown, her eyes glazing over with defeat and something that better not be fucking fear. Because if he's actually doing something that should make her afraid - something worthy of fear, like, say... _physically_ abusing her - then I cannot make promises regarding his safety. "Come on, Alice; we're going." he growled gruffly. He didn't wait for her to move from my side, and she even tried to press _closer_, as if she wished to be absorbed into my very ribcage; not that it worked, because he stomped over, grabbed her roughly by the bicep and wrenched her from me. I didn't realize that I'd somehow taken to tightly gripping one of her hands in mine until he ripped the tumor from my side and my arm jerked after her. The grip was bruising, I could tell by the look on her face when she glanced back at Rose and me, standing stolid and burning with implicit anger in the hall.

The lunchroom was to the right of the corner we'd been stopped at. He took a left. And I didn't like that; because while, sure, there's a way more convoluted route to take to end up at the same place if you go left, I just somehow sensed that they wouldn't end up there. And all it would have taken was for Alice to call my name. I would have sprinted after them and delivered such a debilitating beat down to that fuck-twat. Because she's MINE to abuse, no one else's. And I hate sharing; and from the look on her face I caught just before they disappeared around another corner - also not leading towards the lunchroom - I _was_. I know I had been, but now I was witnessing it. And all she had to do was just... yell out, make a noise or even just _grunt_. But she didn't say anything, and eventually we couldn't hear the sound of their footsteps echoing down the hallways.

"You were right, Rose," I muttered darkly as I stuffed my hands into my pockets and hunched forward just enough for my hair to fall in my face and cast those shadows I'm told make me appear terrifying. "I'd be all too delighted to beat some_thing_ for Alice."


	3. Chapter 2

**Oh... oh my god... I love my Walt Disney Pandora station! POCAHONTAS IS MY HO! And I've been told, by my elder sister - aka, my baby girl that I totally helped raised... and she didn't quite turn out like I wish she had =_= - that I would be Grandmother Willow. Challenge accepted. ^^ OHMYGOD, MULAAAAN!**

**Sorry, but really though, I feel I must explain Bella - ever just had someone you hate for years, and then you don't see them for years but then you do and it's like HOLY - ALFIUDPFHASP - O_o I have. I still hate him, and damn his ass for being attractive, I grudgingly hated him still for how I previously used to, and then that he was attractive and that made him harder to hate... then he opened his mouth and I discovered that he hadn't changed AT ALL and I was free to hate him. That's basically Bella being me, hateful for the sake of hate, but she's specifically looking for a reason to hate Alice. So she will make them up if she must. One helped that she never apologized; I've been on the wrong end of the shit stick too many times to stand for someone just... not even putting forth the effort. Like, really? Well fuck you kindly then.**

* * *

I liked Mrs. Greene. She's actually one of the few teachers I can say that I like. She isn't a bitch, she doesn't bitch - unless there's one of those obnoxious apes I mentioned earlier acting like a disruptive douche - and she's pretty fair with the work load. Plus, she's really chill about late work and giving a shit ton of make-up work even for points lost on massively late work. She also genuinely cares for students, and maybe it's just me but that seems rare these days. Or I have ass hole teachers. It's one or the other... or both... still, I liked Mrs. Greene, and she loves me. Which is weird, yes, because I'm a hugely hateful bitch and she's so nice. But she thinks I'm hilarious, and hell, even Rose likes her!

Anyone that Rose likes, just right off the bat, is always good in my book. Except Alice, and we thankfully don't have this class with her. See, there's no class that I have on my lonesome. That is to say that in any class, one or both of the girls has it with me. So I'm always annoyed by something. Which means at this very moment, Rose is murmuring some bull about Alice. She's worried. And it's beginning to make me twitch something awful, just hearing her muttering and murmuring about the frail monster. And her devil of a beau. What bothers me about him...? He tries too hard. I'm pretty sure he's deliberately fucked up, just to try and impress his douche friends. He'd be a lot cooler if he'd just slow his roll and act chill. But no, he's gotta be Mr. LL Cool J; you can't be cool and drive a minivan, okay. And I know a lot of kids drive hand-me-down cars here... But you SERIOUSLY cannot be cool in a fucking minivan.

Now _my_ car, while being a great deal older than a good handful of cars in the lot, is still badass. See, Jakie is a bit of a fanatic for cars; he likes to tinker and toy around under the hood. It's almost a hobby, but more of an obsession. It started when he was... probably eleven or twelve, can't quite remember when, but around that general time period. Anyway, it was all very sudden, his love of tinkering; like he just woke up one day and decided, _fuck it, I'ma be a mechanic!_ It worked wonders in my favor, when he saw that Desoto on the side of the road, he just creamed himself - not knowing that I was drooling over the beautiful piece of machinery as well - and _had_ to work on it, just _had_ to bring it back to life. As it is now, Soto's my baby and Jakie's love child. His new project is finishing the Rabbit, which will replace Clifford, the big red truck.

Both Alice and Rose have super nice, shiny-new cars that stand out ridiculously in the lot filled with older vehiculars. _Speaking of Rosalie..._

"_DUDE!_" I hissed at her, glancing up from the book I'd been pretending to read so she would leave me the fuck alone and get on with her own life; it hadn't been working, and the low buzz of her talking was starting to _really_ get to me. I was twitching and gritting my teeth and it _still_ wasn't good enough to calm the fury of my soul and keep me from wanting to throw the text book at her head. "_Shut. Up._"

Mrs. Greene had us sitting right up front; and usually it bothered me when teachers had me seated up at the very front of the class, but I feel I must reiterate that I do rather hold no ill feelings for the dear woman. She let it slide whenever Rose and I would throw mad expletives at each other, so long as we didn't say them loudly and they weren't too terribly bad and/or often spoken. Can we say _brownie points_?

"_Well pardon ME for feeling concerned-_"

"_Over Alice?_" I interjected with a sharp whisper, snorting lowly and rolling my eyes. She frowned at me, though; it was strange because usually she'd remain mostly emotionless or she'd smirk with that damned superior smirk of hers, like she knew something I didn't and she was just waiting to ruin my life with it.

"_She wasn't in Johnson's class..._" I'll admit - tell anyone and you'll get it - but I'll admit that I did feel a teeny-tiny baby twinge of something close to unease when she said it, but I ignored it, shaking myself slightly and settling a grimace on her.

"_Yeah, so?_"

"_And what if something happened, huh?_" Her glare cut through my forced grimace for just a moment; I could tell by the slight softening of the hard lines of her face, as if she saw right through me and knew the frown on my face and furrow between my brows was out of the same worry that shone in her eyes.

"Nothing happened," I spoke slightly louder, just above a whisper, but not quite inside voice, if that makes sense. Mrs. Greene glanced up, I could see it out of the corner of my eye, but I made no move to spare her a glance of my own. "End of story."

"_God damnit!_" Rose hissed, her glare returning full force. I matched it. "_Stop being so fucking blind!_"

"_Shut up, Rose._"

"_You're so damn selfish, you idiot!_" My twitch was returning, and my eyes were narrowing. My teeth grit of their own accord, the ache in my jaw the only warning that I was even doing it in the first place. "_You admit that you worry about her, and then turn your back in the next second!_"

"_Shut _UP_, Rose._" She didn't listen, continued on ranting in that furious whisper that was probably starting to draw unwanted attention now.

"_Something could have happened, REALLY happened, and you sit there, parading around your fake apathy; you're shitty, and a fucking bitch._" Pot mother fucking kettle.

"_Oh, like you aren't one!_"

"_Yeah, I am, but at least I'm an honorable one-_"

"Shut up, Rose!" If that didn't get the attention of the whole class, I don't know what will. Somehow, I'd shot up from my seat, hands slamming down on the top of my desk as I glared heatedly at Rose and she glared right back.

"Mrs. Swan?" I was practically panting, and it was a struggle for me to tear my eyes from Rose; but I managed, taking a deep, calming breath and looked to Mrs. Greene.

"My apologies, ma'am," I slowly sank back down into my chair, glowering at Rosalie. Again, she gave as good as she got; hell, probably better. Honorable bitch, what the fuck is that shit supposed to mean?! If you're a bitch, chances are you aren't a nice person, and therefore you aren't _honorable_. Besides, it's not my fault that Alice didn't call for help or _ANYTHING_ when she had the chance to, when she had the _CHANCES_ to. She had a lot of time to call out, scream for help; but you know what? She didn't. That isn't my fault. That's hers. So she can get the fuck over herself, because Alice dug her own grave.

And no, thinking that didn't make me feel uncomfortable. I already felt uncomfortable to begin with, so that thought didn't have any effect on me whatsoever. None. Nada. Zilch. Cero... _Fuck, _it got to me. _Stupid fucking Rose; she did this shit on purpose!_ I glared at her, but she seemed smug and knowing when my eyes met hers; as if she could already tell that I'd broken down under her stare and insistence that I was worried. I am, okay!? FINE! I ADMIT IT, YOU WIN! I'm fucking worried.

I know I shouldn't be. Because I hate her, and she's a big girl and can totally take care of herself. But I am. Because she's also this little thing, this little bitchy thing that can only dish out the vocal defensive but wither's away under physical onslaught. I only know that from my childhood, in all honesty - there was this time that she said something or threw something at me and even though her cheeks were puffed up and her face was red like she was going to cry, I fucking went at her. Fists swinging, noises ripping from my vocal chords of animalistic fury. And I will tell you what; she backed the fuck down pretty quickly. Hands flew up to cover her face, arms curling over her head. The teachers had to pull me back off her and it was then that she sent such a look my way that wasn't even angry; it was sad, fucking SAD!

Bitch was sad I stopped hitting her. Crazy freaky kid was what she was. I swear... But beside that, as far as I know she's still just that scared little girl that totally can't defend herself; I mean, she's still petite and little and adorab-... Well, she's defenseless, let's leave it at that. And James is... James is James. I still don't know why she's with him, I've tried so hard, Rose has tried _so hard_ to convince her to leave him; but every time she swears she will, she swears she's going to break up with him, the next day she shows up with his arm around her shoulders and this awkward smile plastered on her fake face. And usually her fakeness is obvious only to me, but on those days it's obvious to everyone. Teachers stare at them hard, as if looking for something more wrong with the picture, past her very clear discomfort. They never see it, but it isn't really something that you _can _see just by looking for it; honestly, it's more like... it's more like something that you _sense_. It's this sensation roiling in the gut, this sort of unease that's got no cause and no purpose but to just tip me off that something isn't right about him.

Jazz - Rosalie's younger brother, but he's actually taller and looks older and I swear to Christ, they could be twins - has this crush on Alice. And while I have no problem with Jazzikens, I don't like the idea of him dating Alice; that being said, I much prefer the image of Alice cuddling up with the stoic blonde than I do with the _James._ Because James has ulterior intentions that I can see in that smirk of his. It's in the gleam of his eye when he looks at Alice not like a person, not like a woman, not like the person that he adores and cares for, but like his next meal. Like he's a man on death row and she's the last thing he'll eat and he's so god damned hungry it hurts, but he's happy that it hurts.

So yes, maybe I'm worried that something happened. She never showed up for lunch looking peeved or pessimistic. And if Rose was telling the truth - and it's highly likely that she is - then Alice wasn't in the class two doors down from us. Where she logically should be. I almost stood from my seat once more to ask if I could excuse myself to the restroom, but I didn't. I resisted the urge, biting my lip hard and curling my fingers into the palm of my hand so that my nails bit sharply into the skin there. I knew it would leave marks, but I also knew I wasn't likely to break the skin, so I just kept it up and let myself feel the slight sting of my self-harm. I tried to focus my attention specifically on that, to ignore the urge to do something. Because that which represents evil in my world, that which is the evil empire, that which is my reason to hate and put up with the hatred I receive with my head held high is being threatened - and that bothered me, that worried the fuck out of me and it _really_ shouldn't.

"_I was rude,_" Rosalie murmured lowly, and I glanced at her with a grimace that wasn't quite because of how annoyed I was that she'd forced me to realize and recognize how fucking worried I am. I wanted to roll my eyes and snark something back at her, but I just stared at her - more like glared through her - and felt my grimace sink deeper.

"Hmm."

"_Do you think something happened?_" Of course something happened. Something always happens with him. So damn persistent to have her, and then he practically treats her like trash once he does have her; and those times that he would be all nicey-nice, turn around and give her lilies - her favorite flower - or Cadbury's dark chocolate - her favorite kind, it's hard as hell to find - weren't enough to justify or make up for all the times she'd been shitted on by him. But I only shrugged, holding my head up in one hand as I turned from her and stared at a spot on the wall over Mrs. Greene's wall. I'm not gay, that's been established, but if I was I would know how to treat a lady properly. I would know to, and how to, treat a lady like she's a damn princess and my greatest joy in life comes of seeing her, and loving her, and-and... If I was James, I would know to treat her better.

_But you aren't. And you hate her. And she deserves anything short of physical violence unless she herself instigates it. So woman the fuck up and get over it._

_Brrriiing_. _Brrriiing_.

I was pulled from my rusted reverie - I've been going over this so long, it's just getting really old now - by the phone ringing. Mrs. Greene flinched slightly at the sudden noise, dropping her pen and gripping at her heart, eyes wide with surprise. She took a moment to compose herself while the phone continued to ring, and then reached for it, clearing her throat and answering with a slight smile on her face and in her tone.

"Mrs. Greene... Mmhmm... Uhhm... Yes, yes she is..." She glanced at the clock for a moment, brows furrowing slightly. "Okay sure, will this take long?... No, no; nothing like that, just wondering..." She paused for a moment, her slight smile curling higher, and then she chuckled and nodded, although the person on the line couldn't tell that. I won't fault her that, though; I do the same thing. "Right away." She hung up then, slipping off the reading glasses she had perched on the tip of her nose and smiled at me. "Bella? They need you at the front office." _FUCK!_

"I didn't _DO_ anything, Mrs. G!" I whined at her, resolutely sinking lower in my seat. I swear, I didn't! I haven't gotten into any fights today and I haven't broken anything or thrown anything at anyone! I haven't _DONE_ anything wrong today; in fact, the only thing I can think of that they might even-... _THAT'S IT!_ That little sophomore shit stain told on me! What a fucking _PUSS!_ _God_, I cannot believe this shit; this is such fucking bull shit. I can't even- GOD! WHAT A LITTLE FUCKER! I can't believe he told on me, I mean Jesus Hayden Christ, what is this, elementary school? Are we a bunch of first graders? Gonna tattle on each other to our parents!? Mrs. Greene only gave me this sympathetic smile and shrugged.

"What can ya do?" I sighed, loudly, dramatically, and slowly stood from my seat.

"Do I need to take my things?" I asked, shoulders hunched and frown dark on my face. She nodded; so I gathered up my things, stuffing my book back into my bag and slinging the heavy burden over my shoulder. Honestly, this thing weighs... probably an upwards of thirty pounds. My shoulders would hurt if I didn't work my ass off constantly to be fit and strong enough to handle the load like a total champ. I trudged towards the door, sparing only Rose a glance as I walked by. She seemed thoughtful, eyes narrowed as she stared at the phone on Mrs. Greene's desk as if she could make it ring once again with her mind alone. It didn't work, and she didn't even chance a glance my way, but I didn't stop to wait for one, so who knows?

"Do you need a pass?" Mrs. Greene called as I reached the door, my hand already closing around the cool metal handle. I tossed a humorless smile over my shoulder.

"Nah, I'm good. They know better than to stop me," By this point in time, anyone and everyone can see me walking the halls during class, wearing this look on my face, and they just assume that I'm in trouble. Because I usually am. Like now, _damn it._ I stepped out of the room, only just remembering to be gentle as I shut the door behind me and began my walk to the gallows. Seriously, I'm pretty sure I've got my own chair and regular appointments for the office, at this point. I know the office staff by name; I know their family life and their personal problems. I know that Mrs. Cope's cat died last Sunday and I actually have a little card and bouquet to deliver her way... or well, I guess the delivery company truck guy dude will, but still.

"Bella!" I blinked slowly, stopping to consider Angela - Miss Angela Webber is a senior, much like myself, and a previous nameless individual whom I have mentioned as one of the few people safe from Rosalie's wrath; I may have forgotten to mention how safe she is from my own wrath as well, as she is just... she is without hate to be directed upon her. She's a good person, and she also works in the office for extra credits or something and... Is... is that Alice sitting next to her? I was still blinking slowly, trying to comprehend the sight of Alice sitting right there, fine and fit as a fiddle - seriously, I'd been admittedly... slightly barely somewhat sorta kinda uneasy about her, and she was _here_ the whole time!? - when suddenly she wasn't sitting there, and she'd plowed into me, and I'd almost taken a spill in the office. Thank goodness for walls, they hide Alice's too-familiar hugs from prying eyes and they also catch me when eighty pounds of pure pernicious purgatory dweller just throws itself at me.

"U-uhm, what?... The fuck is going on?" I directed my question at Angela because Alice was crying into my shoulder... well, mostly. She's like, seriously little; in case I haven't mentioned it, I don't think she even tops at five feet. IN FACT, I do believe hearing her mutter - and bitterly, I might add - once how her goal in life was to reach five feet of height. I've got a good amount of height on her, Rose even more. So she just barely reached my shoulder, but her wee arms were wrapped tight around me, hands fisted in my favorite shirt - rumpling the SHIT out of it... not that I totally fucking care because this is the only shirt I ever even iron, or anything... _damn it_ - while leaned up on her tiptoes and buried her face into my shoulder. If she tilted her head to the left and shifted closer, she'd be buried in my neck... NOT THAT... I was admiring how warm she was and how cold the rest of me is in comparison... because that would be weird that my neck feels cold and lonely, but it doesn't so... yeah... Did I mention I hate her? I do. A lot...

"Well, we have a clearly sick student, as you can tell..." Angela nodded towards the girl in my arms... Seriously arms? Really? Just betray me like that without my notice? _Damn it..._ Whatever, too much effort to stop comforting her, plus she's clinging to me like the floor is falling out underneath her, and imagining the Mufasa-Scar scenario makes it worth it... _Long live the bitch...(widening of the eyes as I toss her into a pit of flames) NOOOOOO!_

It's beautiful imagery, right? Just me? That's fine; I'll enjoy it in Me-Land. Where I can watch her burn from a throne made of chocolate that never spoils and regenerates as I devour it.

"Right..." I nodded slowly along with her, and Alice calmed herself enough to glance back at Angela and offer her this watery smile. "So I should probably...?" This isn't twenty questions here; fill me in on the secret plan of action, please.

"Take her home... or something..." I nodded slowly, wrapping my arms more securely around the tiny woman-child still clinging to me. I glanced down as I slightly shifted her towards the door, trying to communicate through touch and the look in my eyes alone that I wished her to begin moving from me and towards the parking lot. _Or something_; no one's reliable, I swear. But... Angela gets a break, because it's Angela. She never said a bad word, even at the urge of her more bitchy friends. She's a good person.

"I'll do that, but I _am_ excused from afternoon classes, right?" She shot a grin my way, nodding.

"Of course, you were the only person available, after all, and we couldn't have you tied up with classwork when you've just got such a big obligation already." I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"_Big_, right," She smiled brightly at me as I finally realized that Alice had mostly dislodged herself from me; at least enough to move freely, she _WAS_ still holding onto my sleeve. But it was the part that was rolled up to almost my elbow, so the backs of her fingers still would brush against my forearm. It made me shiver. Because her body is warm but her hands are fucking cold as _ICE_. She's barely human with that amount of chill in her bones. Probably just a side effect of her ice-cold heart. I didn't say anything else as I turned and headed out of the office, feeling the tug on my sleeve as Alice made to move after me and keep pace with my strides. Bitch move I'm pulling: deliberately walking with loooong strides so she has to hurry to catch up. She's not in trouble so I don't have those unpleasant feels anymore that might tell me to take it slow and steady.

"_Bella-_ WAIT!" And yet my feet stop. Really, though? For reals? First my arms, and now my feet? _Damn it._ I cast an annoyed glance back at her, but she could hardly meet my eyes, flushing heavily when she did. But her cheeks were already kinda red to begin with. She's probably two parts of feelings for blush - one being embarrassment that I (her worst enemy and _'best friend'_) have been witness to her tears, I have even become a shoulder to cry on; which leads to reason number two... She's mad at herself for showing me her weaknesses. Maybe if she'd STOP showing me weaknesses she wouldn't blush all the damn time. Or... she's trying to make herself look WEAKER! HAHAH! But I won't fall for it now! "C-can we... take y-your car and... maybe go down to the beach?" I just stared at her for a few minutes before shaking my head, huffing lowly as I tore my eyes away from her and looked to the doors at the end of the hall.

"It's raining." My words sink into my own brain after I say that and I curse lowly, remembering that I had mistakenly assumed today would be _just _overcast. My jacket was in the car, same for my umbrella, and another glance at Alice lead me to feel doubtful that she'd been prepared either. It's times like these that I wished I cared enough to watch the weather channel... but I'm just... so fucking lazy sometimes. I blame my teenage angst. "_Shit._ Alright, ummm, my place?" _Was she getting redder? Is that even a word?_ Hmm, I'm not honestly sure... so I guess she isn't then. _Weird anyway._ She nodded once and I nodded back before turned and walking again, with her following after me. I didn't even pause to think before taking off my bag, holding it with one hand while unbuttoning my shirt with my other hand. It was a pale blue piece that was my favorite because apparently I look very 'nice' in it. Because yes, sometimes even I like to look nice, although I don't usually give a shit.

I was wearing a black tank top underneath it, so it wasn't like I was shedding too much. I shrugged out of one arm, switched my book bag to that hand and shrugged out of the other arm while swinging my bag back over my shoulder so I could hold my shirt out to Alice. And all of this accomplished while still walking - _skill, mother fuckers, I've got it._ I saw her glance at me as our steps slowed, and I only gave her a grim look as we stopped for just a moment before the glass doors.

"It's _raining_," I jerked my head towards the weeping, bruise-colored sky, indicating she should just use my shirt as a ghetto umbrella. Because I'm a fucking gent. And the bitch is already drenched in tears. And that has something to do with James, I'd bet, so I'd do best to play nice if I want to defeat adversary number one, and _then_ to move on to Alice. Now I'm pretty sure she's more red in cheek. _Seriously?! _She's got a problem with my shirt now? Christ alive, can I not do someone _nice_ should the mood so fucking strike me!? I mean, fuck, what-

"Thanks," She took the shirt from me, stopping me mid rant. And I had to retract of my statements then, because she _was_ polite about it at least... just retarded slow. Oh was that offensive? Wow, crazy how I don't care. I didn't say anything in return, just turned back to the door and swung my bag back into my hands, _again_, but just so I could heft it over my head and shoulder the door open.

"Come on!" I barked at her as I charged forth into the rain. It was _sloshing_ down at us, not in drops, but in streams and magnificent torrents, coming in waves with the wind. _Jesus christ!..._ This one is so tame. Last Wednesday was truly terrible, it had been raining non-stop, so everything was flooding and ridiculously bull shitty. Made driving hell. Right now the drops were just fat and the wind was just strong enough to make them an obstacle while soaking you through. The rain at least wasn't one of those icy-cold ones that were just totally unpleasant. It wasn't really all the warm, either, but it was bearable. Until one of the cars we were running by came to life with the driver's side door being thrown open and - I kid you not - James stepping out, looking all constipated. Oh, I'm sorry, ahem _threatening_. You can air quote that one, folks, and say it in your most sarcasm drenched voice, please.

Alice was closest to the car and I saw how she flinched, and then her foot slip as she tripped in a small pothole. I threw my arm out and caught her before she could take a spill, stepping closer to her and sort-of pushing her to stand aside so I could step in front of her. I shifted my hold on my bag so I had it was one hand and reached into my back pocket to pull out my car keys and shove them at Alice.

"Wh-"

"Go wait in the car," I had to raise my voice just a little, but somehow it still managed to come out in a growl. Oh look, I'm fucking pissed. Funny how that shit happens when I see this ass wipe's face. James' eyes tracked Alice as she slipped from my back and sped to my car, the look in them dark, angry. _So she'd done it?_ She'd broken it off with him? Or had they just had an argument and she refused to put up with him but got caught up in something he'd said as she slipped away? _Ahh, the possibilities are endless... too bad I'll most likely beat him senseless before I can find anything out..._ "The FUCK do you want!?" I hollered at him, heedless of the fact that I seriously didn't need to get that loud. I wanted to. I wanted his full attention on me, and in a second it was, with a sneer-snarl curling at his lips, matched only by my own. But I'm sure mine is better, or at least, for better reason. Therefore, better. _Always._

But I'll tell you what... This mother fucker comes at me, hands in fists swinging wildly at his sides, eyes a-blazing something crazy, shoulders hunched. He looked like an idiot, but I knew it was meant to be this _I'm-going-to-attempt-to-hit-you_ sort of air he was going for. So I squared my shoulders, rolled my neck, and readied myself for an easy tussle. Instead of doing anything, the fuck just pushed at my shoulders roughly, barely moving me back a step.

"_YOU FUCKIN' DYKE!_" Oh. Woooow. It's sickeningly original, how these teenagers are these days. Round of applause, turn up, this one... this one was genius. _Fucking NOT._ I shoved him back; he seemed surprised that he was moved more than me. But that's only because he's not as solid as I've made myself to be for years so that I _can_ handle shit like this. Seriously, does no one ever think before they try to challenge me? Do they forget that I can wrestle with Emmett? Em is Rosalie and Jasper's younger step brother, a sophomore, but he's easily topping at 6', fucking hugely muscled. I don't know what the kid eats, but he's magnificently large. And he's my workout partner. Along with Jakie. Who is about the same height and a bit less beefy than Emmett. STILL!

"You got a god damn problem, Witherdale?!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID, fucking BITCH!" Mmmhm. Okay. Right, that makes sense, because I said like... less than fifteen words to him until just now when he started shit. And I haven't seen him for at least an hour, an hour that I spent with Rosalie by my side the whole time. And therefore I haven't interacted with him hardly at all this week day. But yeah, no, I totally know what I did. That would make sense, after all that evidence, that I definitely know what I did and all. "You _STOLE_ my _GIRL!_ Sound familiar!?" I blinked slowly, glancing back at my car and then back to him...

"She... she came willingly," I said slowly, as I glanced back to my car with raised brows. _Seriously? _This guy is cra-

_CRCK!_

I felt my neck crick as the unexpected force of knuckles hitting my cheek at an awkward angle forced my head whipping to the side. The only pain I felt was in the crick I knew would bother me for days now, because either of my older sisters - and I love them, but they are huge wusses - could punch better than that... or I assume they could. I think they might, and I say they can simply because I seriously dislike James, err, sorry, _hate_ him. Still, my neck was gonna feel this for a minute and a fuckin' half and it was going to suck, so when I turned back to him with my glare absolutely summoned from the bowels of hell, he seemed to realize his cheap shot was a total loss. A sad attempt to gain an upper hand in a fight that shouldn't have been started. A fight that I would end. I cracked my knuckles, spat out through grit teeth:

"You **really** shouldn't have done that," And took a step closer, fisting his shirt in my hand, cocking a fist back when he faltered at the look in my eyes and the strength in my arm that LIFTED him off the ground. I can't pick up Emmett; I can almost move the indomitable Mount Jakie, but James? He's not even close to either of them, so he's easy. "And I'm gonna make you regret it."

* * *

**This is specifically because every time a guy has thought he was shit and I stood the fuck up, they sat down. Every time. They try to start ANYTHING, and I get the fuck up, get in their face, and tell them to do somethin'... and they back the fuck down. But sometimes, some people act first, and when I **_**REACT**_** and it's more than they bargained for, they freeze up. So this, ladies and gents, is about to be a mad fight. Because James overreacted, and... damn. It was raining really hard the other day, so I took my shirt off and offered it to my charge... she refused, so I shrugged and used it for myself; of course Alice wouldn't refuse anything from Bell however ;3**

**So review or don't, but no flames, eh? And I WILL SPOILER ALERT Y'ALL NOW - nothing has happened between James and Ali like **_**that.**_** She has SOME pride as a fuckin' lady, dayum. Have some faith. I've just had to sit by while my own... someone very close to me, was in a relationship like that, with some... actual... marks made upon her person, and I will NOT allow that in my story... at least not in this one. So no worries, Someone; he's tried, but he's so mean and frustrated towards Alice because she's like "NAH, fu' dat noise!" every time. **

**In any case, much love to y'all. I gotta go bathe my pup and ready mineself for some workin' times, WOOO! Forgive my mistakes, PLEEEEASE? I only spelled checked… this a long chapter… I'm so lazy… SO PLEASE DO FORGIVE AND I WILL EDIT AT A LATER DATE, PINKY PROMISE! **


	4. Chapter 3

"Here," I set the plate and hot bowl of soup down on the counter in front of the unusually quiet, slight figure that is my worst enemy. The blood painting my knuckles previously was long gone, washed down the drain as soon as I'd made it home and made a beeline for the kitchen - and to a greater, more specific extent, it was a beeline for the kitchen sink. As much fun as I'd had feeling that heady sense of euphoria as _his_ nose spewed precious lifeblood over the curve of my first, having his blood on my hands was also unpleasant. Because it was _ his. _ And he was himself. In other words... just, ew. Being decorated with the bright, brilliant shine of the blood of my enemies is a beautiful thing only until the adrenaline wore off and I was struck by the sense that, _ ummm, ew; I'm tainted with the essence of James. _

So of course I'd had to wash my hands. And then Alice had looked so forlorn and silent and exhausted... I just did what came naturally - make food. I mean, Jakie can cook some and papa isn't bad with food, but I'm like a wizard of the kitchen compared to those two twits of taste. My specialty lies in those simplistic dishes; the feel good flavors of life. Shit like grilled cheese. Actually, I make the best grilled cheese this side of the Mississippi; doesn't matter I've lived here my whole life and therefore haven't tried the grilled cheeses around the states. I'm just confident in my grilled skills. And it was Alice's favorite. I make a mean spaghetti, but she preferred my grilled cheese.

The bowl was filled with tomato soup. I practically hoarded the stuff, because I hate tomatoes and I hate ketchup, but I LOVE tomato soup. And those ass holes I call family eat it like they need it to survive. But Alice looked like she needed it. _ And besides, _ some little voice in the back of my head piped up, _ she didn't even eat lunch. _ And I'm a bitch, not cruel. Which is why, after I knocked James' nose into next week and he dropped to the asphalt like a sack of rocks, I only hauled him up from the ground to smash his face into the side of the minivan he claims as his trusty steed. See, I could have used a well placed knee strike of justice to end all hopes for his getting children in the foreseeable future; instead I gave him the equivalent of a falcon PUUUNCH to the kidneys, as hard as I fucking could, but only after I'd hauled his ass up from the pavement a second time.

Apparently, smearing his face against the broadside of his car made it hard for him to stand steadily on two feet. What a puss, I'm so fucking glad that Alice dumped his cheating ass. Oh yeah, there's the fact that it's totally obvious he's been fucking this cool chick - Victoria, redhead, bad ass, takes no shit - on the sly. Alice hasn't ever caught him, as far as I know, but it's so obvious as to be depressing. Like, Vicky is cool as shit, and yet she's been doing that and I could just like her because she's a huge bitch and it's entertaining to me, but... now I have to hate her out of principle.

"What's this?" Alice had been staring at my wondrous feast while I'd been caught up staring at my bloodless hands, pondering the ass hat that had previously colored them. I cocked a brow, sporting a scowl for her as I glanced up.

"What's it look like?" I spat at her. She flushed and ducked her head, reaching up to fiddle with an errant lock of inky black hair in a gesture that had lasted since childhood. She was nervous, or embarrassed. I sighed, forcing the scowl to drop into a more neutral expression of almost-concern. She could probably tell it was fake, could probably tell I was fake - she's the mistress of fakeness after all - but she didn't resist when I tipped her head up with two well-placed fingers under her chin. "Hey, don't mind me. I'm a bitch, remember?" She smiled slightly, nodding slowly as she drew slowly away from me. I slapped at the hand still fiddling with the strands of silky hair, then, and glared. "You wanna go bald?"

She shook her head, still flushing this brilliant shade of burgundy to make red wine jealous, and looked down to the meal with a weak smile I'm sure she thought I didn't notice. Oh! So THAT'S how it is, huh!? Bitch is playing me right now?! Oh, oooh, she's good, I'll give props where they're due; she's certainly good, but I'm better, baby. And I can prove it. So I reached forward, cupping one warm cheek and tilting her face my way. I made a show of turning her head from side to side, feeling the heat of her cheeks sky-rocket to crazy, immeasurable proportions.

"He didn't touch you, right?" I demanded lowly, my eyes burning. I was pissed by the thought of it, but I was playing it up just a bit. Treat others how they treat you, right? Right. All is fair in hate and war. I love to hate her, see? So it works. She stammered an attempt at an answer while I mentally grinned with glee at knocking her off her usual game. Victory is sweet and childishly petty.

"No, I-I would _never_ allow that..." There's this spark in her eyes that brings me to pause for a moment. In it I can see her mother, proud and strong in the face of her ass hole husband. It's reflected now, and the similarities strike me for another moment, one she takes advantage of. In this... sad little attempt to knock me off my game. Again. She leans closer to me now, reaching out and cupping my cheek in almost the exact same motion I'd done to her, but I know for a fact that I bear the marks of James and his little baby fists. Damn my pale skin! "But, for me, you..."

Amazing, right? She's gonna say I'm great and awesome and-

"You idiot!" And the bitch hit me on the head. A harmless little bonk on my head, but a hit nonetheless. Her eyes, though, weren't vindictive and victorious, they were... legitimately concerned. "What if he'd _ really _ hurt you, huh?"

"Jakie and Emmett woulda beat his ass," I snapped back, drawing away from her as angry heat sprang forth in my cheeks. "And there's NO WAY-"

"And just look at your cheek!" Seriously? Complaining about _ how _I saved her? Fucking lame.

"I can't, okay!? And I'm FINE, so just eat your fucking LUNCH already!" I was just one volume notch from yelling. My temper is a fucking problem, I know, but I get defensive when it comes to me. I'll talk about anything but myself because... well, why the fuck is everyone so God damned curious!? I'm eighteen, not tall but not short, I've got two tattoos that only one my 'rentals know of, family that ain't my blood and blood that ain't my family, and I'm NOT GAY - that's it. End of the PBS special, we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming. Alice stared at me for a long moment before drawing away.

She'd stood up from her stool to lean over the island to reach out to me, but now she drew back, sitting back down and staring silently at her food. Which was probably cool by now. Which is her fault. Without another word she grabbed the grilled cheese, and ripped it in half from corner to corner. And then she handed me a half and silently went about dipping her half into her soup and nibbling on it daintily. I switched my gaze from the grilled cheese to her face a few thousand times before she smiled warily and nodded towards the soup, indicating I should follow her example. Biting back barely restrained grumbles, I did as was wished of me, but I was more or less devouring it like my life depended on it.

"You always get testy when you skip lunch," Alice murmured lowly after a few moments of peaceful silence. I shot a weak glare her way but she only offered up a smile in response. "Were you waiting for me, I wonder...?"

"No." Yes. She smiled still, like she knew, even tacked on a giggle to make it seem cute. Which it wasn't. So don't try saying it was.

"We just talked. He... he's tried, before, to... well... you know... But I said no," Now I was paying attention, even setting my mostly half eaten half down on the plate to focus my full attention on her. This pertained to that creature whom had learned a lesson from my fists today. The lesson of Bella... you don't mess with me, whether you think you can take me or not. "And this time I did the talking. And even a bit of yelling, but..."

"He did his fair share as well, I presume?" I could see her eyes glittering again, with tears, no doubt, and I did the noble thing... turning my back so I could take my time getting out two glasses to fill with milk. Let her simmer and calm. Or something. I dunno, I'm not good with emotions. Anger and familial affections, sure. But those deep feels? Uh-uh. Nope. Not for me. Especially when they're from Alice.

"Yeah... it was fucked up," she actually spat out, and I turned back to her, almost dropped one of the glasses, because... damn. Alice had just spoken using one of my favoured words and... wow. Just wow. _ That would seem hot if I was gay, I'd bet._ But I'm not. So it isn't. Still shocking though. "He said some really... unnecessary things."

"Ass holes spew a bunch of shit," I remarked in a sharp tone as I poured the milk in our glasses, glancing up at her. "It's literally a part of nature." She cracked a smile that shortly evolved into a full bellied laugh and I found myself chuckling along with her. Despite it all, her laugh is still as infectious as the first day we met. Which can be utterly frustrating.

"Right, well..." She drew the glass closer, staring into the milky white depths. She was scowling as she continued, "The truth can be shitty." I could taste the curiosity on the tip of my tongue. I could feel it creeping and lurking in my vocal chords, but I fought the urge to question and stuck with a simple shrug.

"Yeah," I agreed as I retrieved my half of a half of grilled cheese and returned to dipping it in soup. It was a good degree cooler than before, but still warm enough to satisfy. "My mom's a piece, so was your dad, and so is James. Not much you can do for shitty pieces of history and human existence, though."

"Except eat grilled cheese?" She held up her half and smiled weakly. I grinned and nodded.

"And soup, don't forget soup. It's good for the soul, so I've heard," Probably useless for the soulless like her, but hey... grilled cheese is always delicious, so there's that. She grinned at my more-than-lame joke, though, giggling girlishly. It almost irritated me, but I smiled anyway.

"Only the teenage soul," she told me as she picked up the long-forgotten spoon I'd set out beside the bowl when I'd first brought it over.

"Right, so crypt keepers like you..." I trailed off into my own bout of boisterous laughter at the look she pulled, even as she tapped at me with her child fists in a fit of 'anger'. It made me laugh harder, and it was some time before I managed to calm myself. But when at last I managed to, it was only to find her staring at me with wide eyes and this dumb, wondering look on her face. _The fuck? _

"You're really beautiful, you know?" I... w-what?

"No." I dead panned. "I'm not."

"God, but you are. You don't even see it, do you?" I'm not blushing. I'm just annoyed. Because she's spouting some odd nonsense. I'm not... I'm not beautiful. I'm not the type to be beautiful. That's Rosalie's area of expertise. That's Alice's area of expertise, not mine. I'm... I'm just not beautiful, okay!? I've never... I'm not pretty enough to be beautiful. That's just a fact. I'm not ugly, but beauty... I don't know if I would call myself beautiful. Oh wait, I do know, and I wouldn't. Because I'm not.

"What's to see? Tattoos, a few piercings? My manly man physique? My crass language? That's gotta fucking be it, right?" My biting sarcasm, and general distaste with the human condition, that's gotta be the fucking icing on the bull shit cake though.

"That's you, though! Even if it isn't conventional... it's gorgeous. Besides, I know they're for your family. That's a beautiful reason," Right. That makes sense. The tribal tattoo on my right hip is now a beautiful thing. She should have heard the words that dad showered me with when he found out about it. Papa was secretly proud, because it WAS this tat that honored his tribe, MY tribe I should say, so with a little bit of convincing of a no doubt sexual nature, dad eventually accepted it. The Umbrella Corp tattoo between my shoulder blades would piss them both off, though. Which is why they don't know about that one. So keep that on the DL. Also, the fact that I'm a fangirl... Yeah, keep that to yourself as well.

"That doesn't-"

"Okay, shut up and listen," I almost made to slap her for that. "You are gorgeous. Guys pick on you because it's familiar, and easier to deal with than some strange attraction to the school lesbian!"

"I'm not-"

"I _ know _ you aren't," Alice interrupted my interruption... which potentially puts her in the right, but there's really no telling. Her eyes were too warm for me though; it was beginning to make me really uncomfortable. "And I wish they could pull their heads out of their asses and see that, but they can't. It's really too bad, what they're missing..." Uhhhh, wait... is she implying...? "But girls? They're mean because they're jealous." I snorted now, nodding along with her. Yeah, I know that one all too well. Jessica Stanley is a fucking slut, she seriously wanted to ride my face a while back and I told her to fuck off without me, so she got pissed and told everyone I had a lesbian crush on her.

Rumors, eh? Gotta love 'em.

"And all that means I'm _ beautiful_?" I snarked back at her. She smiled warmly though, that same warmth she'd already seen fit to grace me with, the warmth I'd rather shit on than accept._  
_

"No, the fact that you handle it all so gracefully is what makes you beautiful. You fight it head on, you've never been afraid to speak your piece about it, never afraid to confront the rumors. You're brave, strong... beautiful..." She was starting to take on this sort of dazed look that made me uncomfortable when it was aimed at me. It was like this... _drunk off of you_, sort of expression. If that makes sense.

"Well, I wouldn't call it _ graceful, _ but..." I'm not blushing. That would be stupid to assume that I was blushing! I just don't handle compliments well... at all. Ever. Especially from enemies. So I hid my flushed cheeks behind what remained of the sandwich. Alice, thank the holy beings, didn't comment on it, only giggling to herself quietly but refraining from actually bringing up the fact that I'm blushing just about as much as she usually does. "If we are to talk of beauty, maybe look into a mirror." I finally found my voice, mentally patting myself on the back for it too. "And hell, bring out a picture of Rosie Posie, her mother, her father, your mother..."

"Alright, alright," Alice broke in, blushing enough to satisfy. Hah, take that. Revenge, bitch. "I get it... you can't accept that you're pretty." I'd been drinking milk. But now it was coming out of my nose when I sputtered in surprise and denial, which, in case you've never had the pleasure of experiencing it, hurt. Like a bitch slap. If Alice was a slap, it felt like one of those, but to my sinuses. "BELLA!"

"What!?" I snapped, through a pack of wild, rabid coughs and teary eyes. Her eyes were wide as the plate holding crumbs and one sad piece of crust in front of her. Those wide eyes were focused on my nose, but she looked panicked. Like... I wasn't sure what, but she looked damn fearful for no reason. My tongue flicked out of it's own accord when more milk dropped down and touched my upper lip, only... it tasted like blood. In fact, it was warm like blood... and when I tried touching my lip, I came away with what looked a whole lot like blood."Well... that sucks."

* * *

_Knock. Knock._

I only grunted in response to the noise coming from the bathroom door. There was one at the top of the stairs that I'd run to, but not before blood spilled on my shirt. I don't even know how, honestly, my hand was cupped tight around my nose. I'm not afraid of blood; it doesn't bother me on account of how much clumsier I used to be in my youth - _totally ignoring the fact I tripped on the last stair and almost busted my face some more... _- and how frequent nose bleeds were for me. I can only assume that maybe James got in a glancing blow when I was rearranging his face against his fucking minivan and his arms were flailing like mad. That would have made it sensitive. And then the milk and violent coughing... I guess it was kind-of inevitable, seeing as how I've escaped wrestling with Em and Jakie without so much as a drop of blood as of late. _Damn it._

I had to marvel for a moment as I straightened up - I'd been bending over the sink and cleaning the blood from my face, then I'd gotten distracted by the angry bruise starting to splotch across my cheek - that after everything I've put my shirt through today, _I'm _ the one that gets it dirty. It was weighed down by the rain it'd taken for team Alice, and stunk of the bitch in question, hell it probably stunk of me and cooked food now as well - but after avoiding getting any makeup on it from Alice, I can't believe that I'M the one that fucks it all up! Irony is a silly fucking whore, I'll tell you what...

"Bella?" Alice's voice drifted through the door shortly after she'd knocked, and now I could see it edging open in the mirror. I'd slipped my shirt off, again, but I tossed it on the closed lid of the toilet. And I'd pulled my hair up into a quick, messy bun before sticking my face under the faucet, so when Alice entered I was confused for only a moment as to why she stopped suddenly and stared at my back. But I did finally realize that now would be one of the few times she'd get to see the tattoo on my upper back. _Oh fuck._ "Is that...?" she stuttered in this oddly shaky tone, eyes wide as they met my own gaze through the mirror. I was scowling, but she didn't seem to notice, didn't react; in the next second she was staring back at the tattoo. I sighed and shook my head slowly. _Great._ She's gonna try and go 'mother hen Alice' in a moment.

Fuckin' bitch isn't my mother. She's no right to do that shit. And while I understand my mother... I don't agree with how she did me and dad, so even if Alice were my mother I'd simply hate her all the more and ignore her completely. She's lucky I even acknowledge her now.

"I LOVE RESIDENT EVIL!" I flinched, slapping my hands over my ears and gritting my teeth against the pain of her squeal shrieking back at me in the echoes of the bathroom space I inhabited.

"God, DAMN IT, ALICE!" I spat back at her, in a fury as I spun around and glared at her. "Bust my FUCKIN' ear drums while you're at it, why don't you!?" She froze then, the light dying from her eyes and her smile dropping with her face as she looked down at my feet. And I almost felt bad about that. Almost. Some part of me was satisfied to see her get like that. Besides, if she was going to get shy and quiet over shit like me yelling at her because she's fucking louder than a heard of elephants, then... well good, because she's loud and it pleases me to shut her up. The thing about her is that she's quick to get over things, so in a second she was smiling lightly up at me and offering up a towel to dry my face and hands off. As if that would totally make it okay because... _Fuck_. My towel is in my room.

"Thanks," I grumbled gruffly, snatching the towel from her and vigorously wiping my face, squeezing my eyes shut as I scrubbed at them; really I was trying to scrub away the image of Alice's bright smile when I grabbed the towel. Brighter than the fucking sun. More plastic than Barbie's dream car, and just as magnificent. 'Cause I really can admit that was a pretty hot ride. Not my type, but nice. Fake. Brilliant. Perfect. _God, she's good._ I can almost respect that, except that it's her and I would never admit that I respect any part of her - her mother maybe, but not her. I turned my back to her and looked in the mirror, tilting my head this way and that, looking to see if I'd missed any blood. Looking hard at my nose, searching for any remaining blood. There was none. I was thankful for that. My gaze lingered on her for a moment, and I caught sight of her but she wasn't looking at me, she was looking _at_ me.

Like... _god, I must be tripping. _I could swear she was checking me out, but that would be seriously weird, so I'm just going to ignore that. I'm just going to ignore _her._ It's what I'm best at, really. Other than my bomb-ass grilled cheesing skills.

"I'm surprised you even know what Resident Evil is," I muttered in the silence that had enveloped us for a few long moments, while I'd stared at her staring _at_ me. Her eyes rose slowly, and the only evidence she felt any shame when she boldly met my eyes in the mirror was the tint of pink returning to her cheeks. I turned around slowly, and she kept my gaze when at last I faced her. I almost could respect her, sometimes I almost do. Until I remember who she is. What she's done. How she really is and that ultimately her motives are against anything good for me. She is all that is bad and opposes my happiness in life. I can't respect her. Even if she sometimes almost deserves it.

"I do," She smiled. "I should. The games are fabulous, and I'm the main character of the movies," I snorted and rolled my eyes and she giggled in return. And somehow the weird mood that had fallen over us lifted and I pushed past her. The towel was slung over my shoulders and as I stalked off I was stalled by Alice's call to wait. I turned back to her, one brow cocked and an almost-frown curling at my lips. She held up my blood spotted shirt with that same hesitant smile and I huffed as I turned fully and stepped back towards her.

"Thanks," I grumbled, once again, avoiding her eyes. _God I'm forgetful today._ I'm too distracted by everything that's going on. And the fact that James actually bruised my cheek. He may hit like a toddler, but his fists _are_ big and brutish I suppose. Heavy hands. _Hands he might have put on Alice instead._ That thought distracted me a lot. Because it shouldn't distract me and I just had to trip over my own thoughts wondering why it _did._ I was sure it meant something, but I didn't want it to. So I was trying to convince myself that it was totally irrelevant. The fact that Alice is here in my own sanctuary is unsettling in that I can't even ponder it on my own, because she's _here._ And I can't let her distract me but she already IS.

"Hey Bella...!" she called to me just as I thrust open my bedroom door and began to pass the threshold, into my inner sanctum. Alice was close at my heels and I rounded on her suddenly, standing to my full height and squaring my shoulders. I was trying not to glare down at her... but I most definitely was. And I knew how big and bad I could look when I was agitated like I was now. But she surprised me by keeping my glare with her own light gaze, with that small smile and relaxed posture. Anyone else, even Rosalie, would have frozen up a bit. But she didn't blink. "Thank you."

"Huh?" I blinked slowly, feeling confused at first, wondering what the hell she could be talking about when I surely had done nothing to receive thanks for in the past five minutes. But then it did occur to me my good deeds, and I snorted, rolling my eyes while waving off the sincerity of her smile. "That wasn't anything worth thanks. Besides, I did it more for me than you."

"Oh?" She tried to feign interest in what I had to say, but I could already tell by the tone of her voice and the light dimming in her eyes she'd been disappointed by what I already said. Yeah, I'm sure she wants me to defend her honor. But I was defending my right to Alice's discomfort. The right James had tried to muscle his way in on. It wasn't for her at all... I just really hated James. He rubbed me the wrong way in... basically all parts of life. So really, I deserved no thanks.

"Yeah," I was grimacing now, looking just over her shoulder, eyes unfocused but seeing James' face and that smarmy smile of his. "I really didn't like him. At all. Especially not with you." She smiled slyly at that, cheeks flushing. _ God she's weird. _

* * *

**I'm putting this out. I don't give a fuck if it feels short to me. I'm tired, I got pulled over, my feet hurt, AND I didn't get paid. Again. So happy fucking Monday and don't you dare complain. Or bitch fits will be flipped. They will be flipped so hard.**

**Also, the original version of this chapter had the actual fight in it. This version was deleted by my cock mongrel of a kindle and I was so disheartened that I didn't even try it a second time. For it could never live up to the greatness of the first. Actually that incident may have invoked the rage that I fractured my foot on last month... nevertheless, I would apologize but... if you have a problem file that with BITCH FITS WILL BE FLIPPED department. Thank you. **


End file.
